School Days
by blacklikemysoul
Summary: Why does Ziva have the uncontrollable urge to bang her head on her desk? Pre-NCIS. Same AU world the rest of my stories are in.
1. Chapter 1

Ziva sighed and bit her pen. She abhorred sitting here in class listening to her teacher revising concepts from the chapter that they had been assigned to read last night.

_Really, if we don't understand we could ask questions and she could move through the information twice as fast if she would not revise every single detail. And those who do not have the discipline to do their homework, well, their failure would be their own fault._

Between her eidetic memory and the discipline her father had instilled in her, she already had the concepts down cold. Now she wanted to practice speaking Russia or-- better yet-- work on her sparring. Yesterday, she had managed to take out a Mossad trainee and 15 year old Ziva was itching to prove that it wasn't just a fluke.

Ziva's impatience was accented by the fact that this was her final semester in school. She had managed to skip two levels in school and in May she would graduate and, because of her father's various connections, begin military training at 16, two years before her peers began.

"Ziva, are you listening to me?" snapped Gospoja* Solomonovich, interrupting Ziva's train of thought.

As she was about to respond (in the negative, unfortunately), the bell rang, coming to her rescue. Following the cue of her classmates, Ziva began tossing her belongings into her backpack, anxious to get to gym class as soon as possible.

*Russian for Ms.


	2. Chapter 2

Ziva looked down at her opponent, head-cocked. Despite her lack of expression, Ziva was immensely satisfied with herself. _Everyone in the class... I think I can say that I'm officially back from my "leave."_

"Good job, kiddo," Kfir smiled. "It seems that you're back to your old self."

Ziva smiled in return, bowing to her class captain. "Why thank you, sir. But if I may, I believe I have always been myself."

Kfir rolled his eyes and nodded toward the track, sending Ziva to run a mile before the end of gym.

Ziva grinned broadly and jogged off toward the track, feeling an incredible buzz from sparring with her peers and happy to have a few moments to herself before continuing her monotonous day of revising things she already knew for the upcoming term exams.


	3. Chapter 3

Ziva zipped through her homework easily, grumbling about having to spend the year in school.

"What's up, Z?" Thalia inquired, smirking at her older sister with a knowing look.

"Shut up, Thal..." Ziva grinned back, playfully shoving her sister.

"You know you like sitting here with me, doing homework. Come on. This is so totally worth all of the classes. And translations. And exams. And papers. And..."

"You're not helping your cause, Nathalia. Seriously"

Thalia just grinned in response, returning to her algebra.

"Okay, fine, you know what?" Ziva slammed down her French book, not willing to look at Proust any longer, much less work on making a translation into English. "We are just going to have to settle this the old fashioned way."

"No!!!!!!!!"

"Come on. Get up. Up. Up!"

* * *

Ziva cranked the portable radio player up as loud as it would go, blaring Stravinsky's _Rite of Spring_ throughout the forest.

"You know," she shouted above the music, "the rules of engagement?"

Thalia twirled in response and began to go through a series of complicated ballet movements, Ziva watching closely, memorizing every minute detail.

At the end of piece, the two girls lay side by side laughing. As always, the dance-off had begun with mock seriousness, sisters leaping and twirling with surprising agility and beauty over the sticks and other detritus that lay on the forest floor. However, it had quickly devolved into a ridiculous display that resembled two drunken sorority girls attempting to perform karate.

"I declare this event a tie."

"No, no. I think I beat you. My dance was much more creative and..."

"You don't even have a word."

"Okay, but..."

"Ziva!"

Ziva jumped up at the sound of her father's voice. "Harah!"

"Don't worry about the stuff, Ziv. I'll clean up. Just run back as fast as you can."

Ziva leaned over to give Thalia a kiss and darted toward her house, adeptly avoiding the trees and fallen logs as she sprinted.


	4. Chapter 4

Ziva shifted uncomfortably in her chair, attempting to focus on the new conjugation they were learning in Spanish.

* * *

The night before, her father had whipped her when she returned home from her impromptu dance-off, angry because her homework was not finished by the time he got home. Under his watchful eye, she had completed her homework and written a 5 page essay to her father, complete with citations, on the importance of fulfilling one's duties. Aunt Nettie had snuck dinner into her room, and Ziva had managed to go to sleep before 3 am, despite her heavy workload and the extra assignment her father had given her.

Her 5 am run had been a little slower than usual, but she still managed the 16 km her father demanded.

* * *

That afternoon, Ziva joined the crowd of excited students standing around the bulletin board where the term exam scores were posted.

"Perfect marks, Ziva!" shouted Kfir. "My dad's gonna be so pissed that you beat me again. How do you do it?"

Ziva just smiled and walked off, headed to find Thalia and go home.

_Perfect scores. Good. The upcoming break should be bearable, then. Abba can't help but be pleased with that._


End file.
